


Beyond the Limit

by Himmelreich



Series: Every Wednesday, I'm here, in jail [7]
Category: Aldnoah.Zero (Anime)
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-16
Updated: 2015-06-16
Packaged: 2018-04-04 15:03:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4142217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Himmelreich/pseuds/Himmelreich
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“Congratulations on your birthday, Kaizuka Inaho.”</i>
  <br/>
  <i>Inaho stopped on the threshold in surprise for a second, but Slaine on the other end of the table merely regarded him with an air calm friendliness.</i>
  <br/>
  <i>“You remembered,” Inaho then stated, walking over to take his seat behind the rows of white chess pieces. Slaine let out a slightly exasperated huff of breath.</i>
  <br/>
  <i>“I might not have a photographic memory such as you, but I’m also not that far gone that I can’t remember things someone told me just a month ago, not to mention I don’t have a lot else to keep track of as it is.”</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beyond the Limit

**Author's Note:**

> A continuation to _Between the Lines_.

“Congratulations on your birthday, Kaizuka Inaho.”  
Inaho stopped on the threshold in surprise for a second, but Slaine on the other end of the table merely regarded him with an air calm friendliness.  
“You remembered,” Inaho then stated, walking over to take his seat behind the rows of white chess pieces. Slaine let out a slightly exasperated huff of breath.  
“I might not have a photographic memory such as you, but I’m also not that far gone that I can’t remember things someone told me just a month ago, not to mention I don’t have a lot else to keep track of as it is.”  
“I didn’t doubt your ability, but rather your interest in remembering,” Inaho clarified, observing how Slaine leaned back in his chair with a smile. 

“Then you’re the one with a blurry memory. I told you I wished to return the favour, and I usually don’t go back on my word.”  
“Thank you, then.”  
“Shouldn’t you be out, celebrating?”  
“Strictly speaking, it was yesterday,” Inaho explained with a shrug, “the dates are not a month apart exactly. I didn’t make that clear last time, apologies.”  
Slaine blinked, then let out a small laugh.  
“That’s nothing to apologise for. You didn’t have to tell me at all, or you could have blatantly lied, too, telling me it was in December and I had just missed it, or something like that.”  
“Why ever would I do that?” Inaho asked in confusion, but Slaine just gave him a look that was vaguely pitying in response. Not for the first time Inaho wondered just how much more experience the other had had with lying petty verbal and psychological warfare to be that distrusting of the truth in others’ words.

“I hope you had a pleasant yesterday, then.”  
Inaho gave a nod in reply, and Slaine seemed content. In truth, he had not done anything special on the occasion, seeing how it had been a work day. There had been congratulatory letters and phone calls from officials during the day, and the department’s secretary had placed a bouquet on his desk, but other than that, it had been business as usual. Later, Yuki had insisted they go out for dinner at a nice restaurant, even though he would not have minded cooking at home for themselves. His friends had informed him that there was no escaping a belated party with them next time he would be in town, and that had really been all. He did not walk around relaying personal information to people usually, so probably not a lot of people knew about his birthday, and for all he cared, that was fine. In a way, by now the celebrations on the anniversary of the end to the Second Interplanetary War had become more of a second birthday to all of those that had survived, and that made sense to him more than remembering individual dates.

He was about to turn his attention to the chess board when Slaine spoke up again, an amused tone to his voice.  
“Aren’t you curious about your present?”  
Inaho looked up with a frown, but Slaine remained a picture of composed serenity.  
“I didn’t expect you to really give me one,” he said slowly, and Slaine’s eyes narrowed just slightly for a fraction of a second.  
“Because I don’t have possessions I can freely give away, since with my death, all of my inheritance went back to the Empress, yes. And the little I own, I won’t part with.”  
Inaho’s eye automatically fell on the pendant faintly outlined beneath the fabric of Slaine’s shirt, and even though he looked up again instantly, he knew Slaine had noticed.

“And somehow I doubt you would have approved of me bribing the guards into providing me with contraband, as easy as that would be.”  
Something must have shown on his face, because Slaine raised his brows slightly.  
“I’m not being serious.”  
Inaho swallowed his thought that going by how easily Slaine had manipulated the Martian nobles, he actually had little doubts that achieving similar on a smaller scale within this prison would be perfectly within Slaine’s powers. Whether he did not try because he had no faith in his success or because deep inside, he was not comfortable with that particular talent of his, Inaho was not sure of, but it was something he kept in mind. 

“Also, you strike me as a person that has no use for unnecessary or impractical gifts just for the sake of being given,” Slaine continued, “so something random I could somehow get my hands on would have been pointless in any way.”  
“There was never much room in my life for such things,” Inaho agreed, and Slaine smiled in understanding. Growing up in cities and castles that could end up in ashes the next day, only keeping what would be of use later, it had been a shared reality for them. Inaho’s few memorabilia of happier days had been lost in the meteor bombing of Shinawara, and Slaine’s somewhere in space between two planets. 

“I thought so. That’s why I decided to give you something practical, something that I can offer for free, and something that only I can provide you with.”  
“I’m curious,” Inaho prompted, leaning forward with his elbows propped on the table, “what are you talking about?”  
“A list of your short-comings and flaws.” 

For a moment, Inaho thought he had misheard, and he frowned, trying to replay the memory as best as he could without the Analytical Engine, but he could not find an alternative interpretation to the string of sounds.  
“That is an unusual gift to commemorate someone’s birthday with,” he then said dryly, but Slaine shook his head, seemingly entirely earnest.  
“I think it’s the most useful knowledge I can leave to you. There is nothing about either Earth or Vers technology and history you can’t learn from someone else but me, and I know by now you probably know about most of my life in more detail than even I myself do. However, I think there is no-one else who ever paid attention to you and your weaknesses more than I did, and if you know, you might be able to cover for them better next time.”

Silence stretched between them as Inaho tried to process all of what lay implied in these words. Even though ultimately he had won their duel, Slaine seemed was very much aware of the fact that Inaho had done so only barely, and admitted to having studied Inaho as closely as he had vice versa.  
“We are blind to our own flaws,” Slaine continued in a quiet voice, tone still friendly but Inaho could hear the underlying sadness of experience, “until we either learn the hard way they exist or someone points them out to us.”  
“And even then, we sometimes ignore these truths despite knowing better, so that is not always successful. But I still would like to hear yours, Slaine.” 

“Mark your words,” Slaine warned, and then against all rules of the game picked one of Inaho’s bishops, putting it between them on the centre of the board.  
“Number one: you should not ignore your comrades like you did. You’re trying to do too much on your own, and you will overlook your mistakes and unwise decisions that way. Trust me, I’m talking from experience,” he added with a wry smile, tipping the piece over. 

Before Inaho could argue, Slaine picked the second bishop, putting it down again in the centre of the board.  
“Number two: you blame yourself for the wrong things. As much as I hated you for it, in the end, you only did what Princess Asseylum wanted, and her getting injured was not on you, but on me. It is my cross to bear, you could not have stopped what happened. Remaining in this misplaced state of mind will limit your perspective.”  
He tipped the piece over, and Inaho remained silent, wondering how obvious his regret must have been for Slaine to notice that easily. He had never mentioned it, but then again, it was their shared motivation for trying to save Asseylum, and it had probably been foolish to assume Slaine would not know. There seemed to be little he did not, really. 

“Number three,” Slaine continued, picking the queen this time, “you’re too trusting. You put your faith into people too easily, and if you had not been as lucky as you were, you would have paid for it with your life.”  
“I didn’t trust you,” Inaho disagreed quietly, and Slaine tipped the piece over.  
“You did for a moment, and that alone could have pulled all of you into disaster had I turned on you just a split-second faster. I trusted the wrong people, you managed to find those that proved to be reliable, but remember you might not be as lucky next time.”  
“Can I trust you?” Inaho asked, and Slaine stilled, hand extended towards the remaining royal white piece, and looked at Inaho in surprise.

“I’m being honest, and not telling you this because of some greater scheme,” he explained with a frown, picking up the king as Inaho failed to respond.  
“Number four: you are too reckless with your own life. Putting yourself out there on every battlefield as a mark, leading every operation in person, overexerting yourself with no regard to your health, risking your survival trying to save me - you are lucky you didn’t end up killing yourself. You might think you’re okay with these risks, but the people around you aren’t, Inaho, keep that in mind.”  
“A worn out enemy is more likely to make mistakes, so it was ideal to you,” Inaho observed, and Slaine discarded the piece where it was, instead reaching out across the board, and Inaho felt his fingers lightly brush across his eyepatch.

“Yes. I had seen you close to death before and knew you’re not invincible, and learning that you have never recovered entirely was good news to me then. But you won regardless, and the person that is the biggest threat to you now is yourself.”  
“I've always known my limits.”  
Inaho caught Slaine’s hand before he was able to retreat, but the other did not flinch away, instead only looking slightly amused.  
“You didn’t know and respect them, you transgressed them, that’s a difference.”  
“If we never did transgress the rules and limits we are faced with, nothing would ever happen, and we would remain at a standstill. It’s been the same for you, hasn’t it?” 

Slaine took a moment to ponder on his reply, his eyes on where Inaho still had his hand caught on the part of the table not occupied by the chessboard. He did not look up when he finally gave his answer.  
“I suppose so. I told you that I’ve killed and lied my way to the position I needed, but as I said, I would not recommend this approach to anyone, especially not someone who is as careless with themselves, and has so much to loose, so many people who would be devastated if something happened to you.”  
“You do, too,” Inaho insisted, squeezing Slaine’s hand. “The very fact you’re here right now is proof of the fact that there are people who care about you.”

Slaine looked up at that, expression soft and quiet.  
“It can be a sad or happy thought, knowing that there will be people who will mourn your death. That is why I say you need to be careful with yourself, Inaho.”  
“Would you? Mourn my death?”

He felt movement beneath his hand, and for a moment Inaho thought Slaine would pull away. Then, he noticed that instead Slaine had simply turned his hand, palm now facing up.  
“I would,” Slaine declared, earnestly. “You mentioned birthdays are about celebrating the fact someone is alive, so it felt appropriate to bring it up. If you were gone, there would be no-one to bully me into playing chess with them, would there?”  
Inaho smiled.  
"I suppose so. Given it was my birthday yesterday and all, I can request a game this time, no?”  
“You’re very unimaginative with your requests,” Slaine complained with a sigh, but nevertheless returned the pieces he had removed from their position in order to illustrate his points back to their initial squares.

He did so a bit clumsily with his left hand, and throughout the entire course of the game, neither of them let go of where they held on to each other, still.

**Author's Note:**

> >>> Inaho lying about his birthday is of course a very un-subtle reference to the fact that his birthday was in fact retconned in the official material from December to February 7th.
> 
> With this, we have come full circle, in a way, as the topic of transgression is part of the seminar I had to read de Sade for, ironically enough, and with seven chapters, that is a whole week in jail, so this series is finished for now - a series I have never planned to write, but ah, things happen. 
> 
> A heartfelt thank you again to all of you who have stayed around to read any of my fics for this fandom, really _(:3 」∠) If you are interested, I am offering a postcard ficlet give-away of sorts as a thank you for all the support and kind words you have given me, for more details, see [here](http://regnumcaelorum.tumblr.com/post/121634160353/postcard-ficlet-project).


End file.
